The creature crouched in the myrtle by the shed. To see it out like this, unafraid in full daylight, was eerie.
Declan's voice was steady. "When I say duck, you - "
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"I don't want you to kill it. You'll do your big kaboom thing and blow my shed to smithereens." And Grandpa Cletus with it. She didn't even want to think what it would do to Georgie.
He glanced at her, indignant. "I don't go kaboom."
"Tell it to Amy's roof."
"That kaboom is the reason all of us are still breathing."
The creature watched them, making no move to advance.
"I'm not saying it wasn't necessary. But that was her house. She isn't a noble swimming in money. She can't just wave her hand and get another roof. You didn't even warn her first. People need to have a moment to prepare for that kind of shock."
Declan halted, and so did she. They stood entirely too close. Her back was to the creature. Its magic dripped onto her skin, squirming along her spine in a slippery trickle.
Declan locked his teeth. It made his jaw even squarer. "That hound is less than two feet away from the shed. There's no way I can strike at it and not singe the shed. It's physically impossible. And I've left my swords inside."
"That's why you should let me take care of this."
"How, pray tell, will you manage that?"
"Like this." She spun around and whipped a blindingly white line of magic at the beast. The flash snapped, slicing the beast's head off its neck like a giant razor blade. The headless torso froze in a half crouch for a long moment and toppled over. The oppressive magic vanished.
Declan stared at her, openmouthed.
Rose smiled.
Declan released her fingers and strode to the headless body. "Hmm," he said.
"Hmm back at you," she told him and went to check the brush for signs of other beasts. She didn't feel any, but it didn't mean they weren't there.
They searched the bushes, but no other beasts were in attendance.
"Where do they keep coming from?" Rose wondered. "And why?"
"Why is simple. They hunger for the magic."
"I guess I better get a shovel. We should bury that damn thing."
"Who taught you to flash?" He said it like he expected her to lie.
"Nobody taught me. I practiced for years. Several hours a day. I still do, when I have time."
Declan's face reflected disbelief.
"Don't look so surprised," she told him. "I'm the Edger girl who flashes white, remember? The reason for your trip to this horrible, awful place where you have to mingle with unwashed commoners."
"I knew you could flash white. I didn't know how precise you are."
"You're precise. You knocked aside my bolt."
"Yes, but I didn't aim for the bolt specifically. I just sent a wide pulse of magic from the front of my body, like a shield. It would've knocked away one bolt or ten."
"Oh. Well, thank you for the tip! Now I know how you did it."
They looked at each other.
"Just how precise are you?" he asked.
She gave him a sly Edger smile. "Do you have a doubloon on you?"
He reached into his pocket and produced a coin.
"I'll make you a deal. You throw it in the air, and if I hit it with my flash, it's mine."
Declan looked at the doubloon. It was slightly larger than a quarter from the Broken. He tossed it high above his head. The doubloon spun in the air, catching the sunlight, shining like a bright spark . . . and fell into the grass stung by a thin white whip of her flash.
Declan swore.
She grinned, plucked the still-hot coin from the grass, blew on it, and showed it to him, taunting him a little. "Groceries for two weeks. A pleasure doing business with you."
"I've only met one person who could do that," he said. "She was a flash-sniper in our unit. How can you do this with no proper training?"
"Did you study flashing?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it's the best weapon available, and I wanted to be good at it. And everybody in my family was good with it. I was a noble, and I had to uphold the honor of our name."
"I had a much better motivation than you," she said. "When I was thirteen, my mother's parents died in a house fire. Grandpa Danilo always smoked like a chimney. The whole house was covered with cigarette butts, and one night he'd smoked one too many. Nobody got out alive, not even my grandparents' cat. Their death broke my mother. She just kind of died right then, but her body kept on living. She started sleeping around and didn't stop. She'd have anybody who'd have her. Married, blind, crippled, crazy, she didn't care. She said it made her feel alive."
"I'm sorry," he said. "It must've been very painful for you."
"It wasn't fun. People called my mother a slut to my face. Leanne, who lent you the clothes? She used to chase me around the school, chanting 'whore's bitch.' She'd written it on my locker once in big letters. You were the son of a nobleman, handsome, wealthy, probably well liked. Poor little rich boy. I was the daughter of a whore, penniless, ugly, and despised. I had a lot of motivation to flash well. I wanted to ram my flash down the world's throat to show everyone that I was worth something."
"How did it work out for you?"
"Not so well," she admitted. "But now playing with my flash is a habit. I taught myself a lot of fun tricks."
"Aha." Declan pointed to the tree. "Double slicer."
The magic slashed from him in two even streams, running low through the grass, and collided in a brilliant explosion at the tree. He had used a mere fraction of his power, just to show her the move. Declan had better control than she had thought.
"Don't be upset if you can't do it right away," he said. "It takes a bit of pra - "
He clamped his mouth shut with a click as she sent two identical streams of magic into the tree.
"Oh my . . ." she murmured innocently.
"Ball lightning." A sphere of magic ignited over his shoulder and smashed into the tree in a shower of sparks.
She hadn't seen that one before, but she had practiced making spirals for years - mostly because she thought they looked neat - and a sphere was just a folded spiral. The trick would be to snap it with a spin, the way he had done. She concentrated and watched in satisfaction as a white ball formed over her shoulder. It was a bit lopsided and it didn't spin as well as his, but she was able to send it flying into the bark.